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seriousficTrying for something a little different here. Instead of smut, a domestic-y look at how Scott/Barda/Diana would probably work in canon. Good evening for Diana = wine, sparring, and sex y/y? Written for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
dcx3's Ladies Choice Challenge. It's for threesomes involving at least two women, in case anyone on my f-list happens to be interested in that.
Title: One Moment Between Three People
Fandom: DC comics
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3,206
Characters/Pairings: Scott/Barda/Diana
Summary: Diana just happened to be in Barda and Scott’s neighborhood while she was flying her invisible jet.
Diana had met many of Earth’s heroes since coming to Man’s World. She knew they would be the people most inclined to understand her mission. Besides, she would hate to go into combat not knowing her ally’s strength.
But of all the admirable people she met and all the friends she made, Diana thought Barda was the strongest. She was focused, disciplined, a touch rash, but in the end she fought for peace. That made her a great warrior in Diana’s eyes. And Diana loved sparring with great warriors.
After a chat about conservation with a professor at Penn State that yielded some surprising insights, Diana realized her invisible jet was passing over the Frees’ neighborhood. The yards were still recovering from Scott’s test-run of a plasma trap. He’d escaped. The grass hadn’t. Setting the jet to hover, Diana quickly threw some robes on over her armor.
She dug up a bottle of wine that a vineyard had given her for saving their fields from Despero. They’d been more excited by the photo op than saddened over the damage. She hadn’t had time to get drunk, and hadn’t had anyone to do it with, but at the back of her mind it seemed ungracious to not enjoy the wine. This seemed an elegant solution to that.
She dropped, hovering at the last moment to keep from damaging the lawn, then rang the doorbell. Barda answered in a few moments, dressed in business casual. She always found it easier to shop at Men’s Big And Tall and dress in drag when it was just her and Scott. She looked very fetching in a men’s shirt with suspenders over it.
“Diana!” Barda said, surprised, then her eyes narrowed harshly. “Has Darkseid struck?”
“No, I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by.” Feeling awkward, Diana lifted the bottle. “I brought wine.”
“Ah!” Shifting with some difficulty into a housewife, Barda smiled at Diana. It was nothing less than sincere. “Come in, have a seat. They’re from IKEA,” she boasted.
Diana sat down. At first glance, the Free living room was indistinguishable from that of any suburban family. At second glance, the pictures in the frames were of gods and aliens, the paperweights were New Genesis technology, and there were knives under the potpourri.
“I’m surprised you didn’t use more weapons to decorate,” Diana commented.
“We put them all in the bedroom.” Barda leaned into the stairwell. “Scott!” she boomed, “Diana’s here!”
“Tell her we don’t need to join the Neighborhood Watch, you are the Neighborhood Watch.”
“Not that Diana, the princess!”
“…be right down.” A minute later Scott came down the steps, wiping his hands off with a rag. “Diana, good to see you. Darkseid attacking?”
“No, I brought wine.”
“That’s why you’re my favorite superhero. The class.”
“I thought I was your favorite superhero,” Barda teased, coming back from the kitchen with champagne flutes that looked ridiculously dainty in her hands.
“You’re my favorite person. Don’t be greedy.”
Barda lifted Scott up by the collar of his shirt to give him a kiss before setting him back down and sitting down beside him. Diana opened the bottle with a fingernail. The sun began to let, leaving them to discuss warm, familiar topics like recent battles, Scott’s act, and Teen Titans gossip in a fading red glow.
***
It was well into the evening now, the beginning of a cool and restful night. Scott stood up, teetering with the third of the bottle he’d killed. “Time flies, here. I love that about this planet. If you’ll excuse me, ladies, I really need to finish off the gadget for tomorrow.”
“Be done by bedtime,” Barda slurred, drunk enough to send a look of undisguised lust Scott’s way. Diana laughed to herself. If only Barda, one-time leader of the Female Furies, knew how adorable she was with Scott. She’d probably vaporize a cow. Adorably.
Scott sloppily bowed to his wife, then dragged himself upstairs. Barda watched him go lovingly. Then she dropped the glasses into the sink and the bottle in the recycle bin. Finally, she came back to the living room and ran a finger across Diana’s hair. “So, were you humiliated enough the last time we fought or do Amazons get off on that sort of thing?”
Diana smiled at the friendly barb. “Depends. Do Furies like the taste of their own blood?”
Barda smiled back, her inebriation dropping away to reveal the deadly playfulness of a jungle cat. “We love it.”
***
Barda had been delighted to hear, all those months ago, that Amazons wrestled in the nude. It made doing laundry much easier and saved her a fortune in new clothes. In the backyard, under the moonlight, behind holographic fence forcefields that could stop a Howitzer round, they stripped like wolves shedding sheep’s clothing. As always, Diana’s breath caught when she saw Barda’s musculature, scars matte black in the moonlight. The other woman did not have the blessings of the Gods, but she had fought many more battles than Diana had, and was mostly god herself.
After some stretching, they began. Barda was as formidable as ever. With surprising patience, she strained against Diana for over an hour, until even their powerful bodies were sweating. Barda hadn’t lost a step since their last bout and Diana found herself hard-pressed to keep up. Finally, she pulled Barda into an old Amazon wrestling hold that the Apokoliptian couldn’t figure out how to break. Barda went still. “I yield,” she said, disgruntled but not bitter.
Diana let her up. She heard Scott applaud as he walked out onto the patio, having set a pitcher of lemonade and some fresh towels on the table. “Well fought,” he said, pouring Barda a glass.
“That is victory enough,” Diana agreed.
“It will have to do,” Barda said gruffly.
“I can think of a few ways to cheer you up.” Scott toweled the sweat from her bare back and lower.
“In a minute. I must speak with Diana.”
Grinning, Scott wiped a drop of sweat off Barda’s cheek with his finger and sucked it as he went back inside, humming “Anticipation”. Carly Simon. Barda rolled her eyes.
Diana watched him go. He had apparently come straight from finishing his work. His shirt had been unbuttoned and a sheen of sweat had covered his bare chest. She couldn’t blame him. Any opportunity to see Barda in action, as well as au natural, was to be relished. As he left, it was hard for her not to notice he took care of his body as well as he did Barda.
Barda sat down heavily, working a kink out of her shoulder before she took a sip of lemonade. “Do you want him?”
Diana paused to decide how best to phrase the truth. “Yes, but I would never act to hurt you, nor would Scott.”
”Relax, that wasn’t the question. I just wanted to know if you would turn him down.” She took another sip. “If offered.”
“I admit, I would be curious. But only if it was what you both wanted.”
Barda smiled as ferally as if she were going into battle. “I’d say you earned it.”
***
Scott was fiddling with the glitchy alarm clock, which he’d just realized he’d never gotten around to fixing, when Diana kissed his shoulder. He dropped the alarm clock before catching it on his knee. “My wife would just turn me around if she wanted a kiss,” he said, setting the clock down on the bedside table.
“That looked sweet,” Barda said, sitting down on the bed. “I might try it.”
Diana’s lips brushed over the back of Scott’s neck before she kissed it, letting him get used to the idea. Scott looked at Barda as he turned to her. She had dressed only in the men’s shirt that didn’t do anything to cover up the curve of her hips or the shadowed pink he could just make out between her crossed legs. Diana wasn’t wearing much more, just a few of her robes, ready to be pulled tighter or cast aside at a moment’s notice.
There wasn’t any more need for explanation. Barda kissed Scott’s hand and he petted her hair as Diana kissed him. Without Barda against him he was nervous, fumbling, but Diana was self-assured enough for both of them. Barda watched them explore each others’ bodies, her cylindrical Mega-Rod rolling against her thighs, until Scott couldn’t take it any more and grabbed a hold of her wrist. He kissed his way up her arm and Barda was only a little surprised to see Diana resting a head on her knee, smiling up at them. Then she sat up to help Barda undress her husband and the rest was needing, satisfied breathing in the dark. A sigh there, then a moan, and finally a soft “oh” before everything was quiet.
***
Scott woke up late that morning. His body took longer to rejuvenate than the Fury or the Amazon. He got up to find Barda had already made oatmeal and coffee, and left portions of both on the bedside table. He ate and drank before they could get any colder.
“Finally, you stop lazing around,” Barda said as she passed through the bedroom, a clothes hamper in one hand. Scott recognized Diana’s white robe poking out of it.
“If I’m exhausted, you only have yourself to blame. Well, you and Diana. The point is, I paced myself very well before you decided—what did you decide?”
“That we should be happy.” Barda applied her Mega-Rod’s blowtorch to Scott’s coffee, heating it up spectacularly. “And you made me very happy last night, like you always do.”
“Feeling’s mutual. But where’d the Princess go?”
“Off to save the world.” Barda sat down against the bed, low enough for Scott to wrap an arm around her neck in a clumsy, comfortable embrace. Her legs sprawled girlishly under her, and as always, Scott rejoiced a little to see her relaxing out of her customary militarism. “Did you find her birthmark? The one over her calf?”
“I thought that was a scar,” Scott said, running a hand over the area Barda had mentioned.
“Diana doesn’t get scars.”
“Poor her. They look great on you.” Scott kissed the scars of Barda’s upper back. He had done it so often that they were practically erogenous zones, and Barda folded into his touch.
“She’s a lot like me, I think.” Then Barda shook her head, no. “Or I’d be a lot like her, if I were raised on New Genesis. Or Tamaran. Or someplace… nice.”
“I wouldn’t have found you in someplace nice.”
“And I’m so happy you found me. Still, it’s good there are people like her. And you. Otherwise, I’d… there’d be nothing to make me whole, when I was half-formed. You understand?”
“We make you better,” Scott said.
“Yes. I can’t help but regretting the past. But you, and her… even Oberon… you make me look forward to the future.”
“Mmm.” Scott crawled out of bed enough to wrap both arms around Barda. “You wanna take a bath? I think I fixed the water jets.”
“I’m very comfortable right here.”
“Mm.” Scott rubbed his cheek against Barda’s. “Alrighty. How about some music?”
“You fixed the stereo?”
“I said I paced myself, not that I spent all day masturbating.”
“You’d better not of. That’s my job.”
“Stereo, on.”
They listened to Bach for a while. Scott had never gotten over Earth music, his first exposure to the idea that a sound other than Barda’s voice could be beautiful, and even if Barda preferred more bombastic composers, she liked to watch Scott listen to anything. At the end of one movement, Diana tapped on the window. Scott and Barda both gestured for her to come in. A moment later, she was sitting on the foot of the bed.
“Thought you were off saving the world.”
Diana looked around. “It’s not destroyed, is it?”
Barda laughed at Diana’s dry sense of humor.
“Besides, I left my clothes here.”
“Darkseid’s balls!” Barda swore. “I was going to wash them, but I got sidetracked!”
“Cello Suite Six.” Diana laid down, fitting neatly between Scott and Barda, her head on Scott’s arm and one hand idly examining a loop of Barda’s hair. “Very distracting.”
“It makes me think of you,” Barda admitted.
“I’m pleased by any comparison. If I may ask, what are you doing this evening?”
“We’ve created a monster,” Scott stage-whispered at Barda’s ear.
Diana laughed and pulled his other arm over her stomach. “There’s a film I’ve heard interesting things about and, as I believe the cinema is best experienced socially, I would like you to accompany me.”
“You’re asking us out on a date?”
“If you chose to think of it that way, I would not correct you,” Diana said in an impressively patrician parody of her usual dignified speech.
“Can I ask my beloved husband?” Barda teased back.
“Certainly.”
“Husband, would you like to accompany Diana and I to the theatre? We could use a big strong man about in case someone tries to mug us.”
“I’m not going if you only want me to stop you from hospitalizing muggers.”
“Scott, think of the poor muggers,” Diana deadpanned.
“Oh, alright. What’s the movie? A nice romantic comedy?”
“Inglorious Bastards.”
“Is it violent?”
“Not as such,” Barda lied for the Amazon.
“And when’s it start?”
“Two hours.”
“I think,” Barda said as she dragged them both onto the floor, “that leaves just enough time for us to wash up afterward.”
And the music kept playing, almost covering up the sound of Barda excusing herself, running to throw Diana’s robes into the washing machine and start a rinse cycle before she ran back, hopping out of her clothes all the way.
dcx3's Ladies Choice Challenge. It's for threesomes involving at least two women, in case anyone on my f-list happens to be interested in that.Title: One Moment Between Three People
Fandom: DC comics
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3,206
Characters/Pairings: Scott/Barda/Diana
Summary: Diana just happened to be in Barda and Scott’s neighborhood while she was flying her invisible jet.
Diana had met many of Earth’s heroes since coming to Man’s World. She knew they would be the people most inclined to understand her mission. Besides, she would hate to go into combat not knowing her ally’s strength.
But of all the admirable people she met and all the friends she made, Diana thought Barda was the strongest. She was focused, disciplined, a touch rash, but in the end she fought for peace. That made her a great warrior in Diana’s eyes. And Diana loved sparring with great warriors.
After a chat about conservation with a professor at Penn State that yielded some surprising insights, Diana realized her invisible jet was passing over the Frees’ neighborhood. The yards were still recovering from Scott’s test-run of a plasma trap. He’d escaped. The grass hadn’t. Setting the jet to hover, Diana quickly threw some robes on over her armor.
She dug up a bottle of wine that a vineyard had given her for saving their fields from Despero. They’d been more excited by the photo op than saddened over the damage. She hadn’t had time to get drunk, and hadn’t had anyone to do it with, but at the back of her mind it seemed ungracious to not enjoy the wine. This seemed an elegant solution to that.
She dropped, hovering at the last moment to keep from damaging the lawn, then rang the doorbell. Barda answered in a few moments, dressed in business casual. She always found it easier to shop at Men’s Big And Tall and dress in drag when it was just her and Scott. She looked very fetching in a men’s shirt with suspenders over it.
“Diana!” Barda said, surprised, then her eyes narrowed harshly. “Has Darkseid struck?”
“No, I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by.” Feeling awkward, Diana lifted the bottle. “I brought wine.”
“Ah!” Shifting with some difficulty into a housewife, Barda smiled at Diana. It was nothing less than sincere. “Come in, have a seat. They’re from IKEA,” she boasted.
Diana sat down. At first glance, the Free living room was indistinguishable from that of any suburban family. At second glance, the pictures in the frames were of gods and aliens, the paperweights were New Genesis technology, and there were knives under the potpourri.
“I’m surprised you didn’t use more weapons to decorate,” Diana commented.
“We put them all in the bedroom.” Barda leaned into the stairwell. “Scott!” she boomed, “Diana’s here!”
“Tell her we don’t need to join the Neighborhood Watch, you are the Neighborhood Watch.”
“Not that Diana, the princess!”
“…be right down.” A minute later Scott came down the steps, wiping his hands off with a rag. “Diana, good to see you. Darkseid attacking?”
“No, I brought wine.”
“That’s why you’re my favorite superhero. The class.”
“I thought I was your favorite superhero,” Barda teased, coming back from the kitchen with champagne flutes that looked ridiculously dainty in her hands.
“You’re my favorite person. Don’t be greedy.”
Barda lifted Scott up by the collar of his shirt to give him a kiss before setting him back down and sitting down beside him. Diana opened the bottle with a fingernail. The sun began to let, leaving them to discuss warm, familiar topics like recent battles, Scott’s act, and Teen Titans gossip in a fading red glow.
***
It was well into the evening now, the beginning of a cool and restful night. Scott stood up, teetering with the third of the bottle he’d killed. “Time flies, here. I love that about this planet. If you’ll excuse me, ladies, I really need to finish off the gadget for tomorrow.”
“Be done by bedtime,” Barda slurred, drunk enough to send a look of undisguised lust Scott’s way. Diana laughed to herself. If only Barda, one-time leader of the Female Furies, knew how adorable she was with Scott. She’d probably vaporize a cow. Adorably.
Scott sloppily bowed to his wife, then dragged himself upstairs. Barda watched him go lovingly. Then she dropped the glasses into the sink and the bottle in the recycle bin. Finally, she came back to the living room and ran a finger across Diana’s hair. “So, were you humiliated enough the last time we fought or do Amazons get off on that sort of thing?”
Diana smiled at the friendly barb. “Depends. Do Furies like the taste of their own blood?”
Barda smiled back, her inebriation dropping away to reveal the deadly playfulness of a jungle cat. “We love it.”
***
Barda had been delighted to hear, all those months ago, that Amazons wrestled in the nude. It made doing laundry much easier and saved her a fortune in new clothes. In the backyard, under the moonlight, behind holographic fence forcefields that could stop a Howitzer round, they stripped like wolves shedding sheep’s clothing. As always, Diana’s breath caught when she saw Barda’s musculature, scars matte black in the moonlight. The other woman did not have the blessings of the Gods, but she had fought many more battles than Diana had, and was mostly god herself.
After some stretching, they began. Barda was as formidable as ever. With surprising patience, she strained against Diana for over an hour, until even their powerful bodies were sweating. Barda hadn’t lost a step since their last bout and Diana found herself hard-pressed to keep up. Finally, she pulled Barda into an old Amazon wrestling hold that the Apokoliptian couldn’t figure out how to break. Barda went still. “I yield,” she said, disgruntled but not bitter.
Diana let her up. She heard Scott applaud as he walked out onto the patio, having set a pitcher of lemonade and some fresh towels on the table. “Well fought,” he said, pouring Barda a glass.
“That is victory enough,” Diana agreed.
“It will have to do,” Barda said gruffly.
“I can think of a few ways to cheer you up.” Scott toweled the sweat from her bare back and lower.
“In a minute. I must speak with Diana.”
Grinning, Scott wiped a drop of sweat off Barda’s cheek with his finger and sucked it as he went back inside, humming “Anticipation”. Carly Simon. Barda rolled her eyes.
Diana watched him go. He had apparently come straight from finishing his work. His shirt had been unbuttoned and a sheen of sweat had covered his bare chest. She couldn’t blame him. Any opportunity to see Barda in action, as well as au natural, was to be relished. As he left, it was hard for her not to notice he took care of his body as well as he did Barda.
Barda sat down heavily, working a kink out of her shoulder before she took a sip of lemonade. “Do you want him?”
Diana paused to decide how best to phrase the truth. “Yes, but I would never act to hurt you, nor would Scott.”
”Relax, that wasn’t the question. I just wanted to know if you would turn him down.” She took another sip. “If offered.”
“I admit, I would be curious. But only if it was what you both wanted.”
Barda smiled as ferally as if she were going into battle. “I’d say you earned it.”
***
Scott was fiddling with the glitchy alarm clock, which he’d just realized he’d never gotten around to fixing, when Diana kissed his shoulder. He dropped the alarm clock before catching it on his knee. “My wife would just turn me around if she wanted a kiss,” he said, setting the clock down on the bedside table.
“That looked sweet,” Barda said, sitting down on the bed. “I might try it.”
Diana’s lips brushed over the back of Scott’s neck before she kissed it, letting him get used to the idea. Scott looked at Barda as he turned to her. She had dressed only in the men’s shirt that didn’t do anything to cover up the curve of her hips or the shadowed pink he could just make out between her crossed legs. Diana wasn’t wearing much more, just a few of her robes, ready to be pulled tighter or cast aside at a moment’s notice.
There wasn’t any more need for explanation. Barda kissed Scott’s hand and he petted her hair as Diana kissed him. Without Barda against him he was nervous, fumbling, but Diana was self-assured enough for both of them. Barda watched them explore each others’ bodies, her cylindrical Mega-Rod rolling against her thighs, until Scott couldn’t take it any more and grabbed a hold of her wrist. He kissed his way up her arm and Barda was only a little surprised to see Diana resting a head on her knee, smiling up at them. Then she sat up to help Barda undress her husband and the rest was needing, satisfied breathing in the dark. A sigh there, then a moan, and finally a soft “oh” before everything was quiet.
***
Scott woke up late that morning. His body took longer to rejuvenate than the Fury or the Amazon. He got up to find Barda had already made oatmeal and coffee, and left portions of both on the bedside table. He ate and drank before they could get any colder.
“Finally, you stop lazing around,” Barda said as she passed through the bedroom, a clothes hamper in one hand. Scott recognized Diana’s white robe poking out of it.
“If I’m exhausted, you only have yourself to blame. Well, you and Diana. The point is, I paced myself very well before you decided—what did you decide?”
“That we should be happy.” Barda applied her Mega-Rod’s blowtorch to Scott’s coffee, heating it up spectacularly. “And you made me very happy last night, like you always do.”
“Feeling’s mutual. But where’d the Princess go?”
“Off to save the world.” Barda sat down against the bed, low enough for Scott to wrap an arm around her neck in a clumsy, comfortable embrace. Her legs sprawled girlishly under her, and as always, Scott rejoiced a little to see her relaxing out of her customary militarism. “Did you find her birthmark? The one over her calf?”
“I thought that was a scar,” Scott said, running a hand over the area Barda had mentioned.
“Diana doesn’t get scars.”
“Poor her. They look great on you.” Scott kissed the scars of Barda’s upper back. He had done it so often that they were practically erogenous zones, and Barda folded into his touch.
“She’s a lot like me, I think.” Then Barda shook her head, no. “Or I’d be a lot like her, if I were raised on New Genesis. Or Tamaran. Or someplace… nice.”
“I wouldn’t have found you in someplace nice.”
“And I’m so happy you found me. Still, it’s good there are people like her. And you. Otherwise, I’d… there’d be nothing to make me whole, when I was half-formed. You understand?”
“We make you better,” Scott said.
“Yes. I can’t help but regretting the past. But you, and her… even Oberon… you make me look forward to the future.”
“Mmm.” Scott crawled out of bed enough to wrap both arms around Barda. “You wanna take a bath? I think I fixed the water jets.”
“I’m very comfortable right here.”
“Mm.” Scott rubbed his cheek against Barda’s. “Alrighty. How about some music?”
“You fixed the stereo?”
“I said I paced myself, not that I spent all day masturbating.”
“You’d better not of. That’s my job.”
“Stereo, on.”
They listened to Bach for a while. Scott had never gotten over Earth music, his first exposure to the idea that a sound other than Barda’s voice could be beautiful, and even if Barda preferred more bombastic composers, she liked to watch Scott listen to anything. At the end of one movement, Diana tapped on the window. Scott and Barda both gestured for her to come in. A moment later, she was sitting on the foot of the bed.
“Thought you were off saving the world.”
Diana looked around. “It’s not destroyed, is it?”
Barda laughed at Diana’s dry sense of humor.
“Besides, I left my clothes here.”
“Darkseid’s balls!” Barda swore. “I was going to wash them, but I got sidetracked!”
“Cello Suite Six.” Diana laid down, fitting neatly between Scott and Barda, her head on Scott’s arm and one hand idly examining a loop of Barda’s hair. “Very distracting.”
“It makes me think of you,” Barda admitted.
“I’m pleased by any comparison. If I may ask, what are you doing this evening?”
“We’ve created a monster,” Scott stage-whispered at Barda’s ear.
Diana laughed and pulled his other arm over her stomach. “There’s a film I’ve heard interesting things about and, as I believe the cinema is best experienced socially, I would like you to accompany me.”
“You’re asking us out on a date?”
“If you chose to think of it that way, I would not correct you,” Diana said in an impressively patrician parody of her usual dignified speech.
“Can I ask my beloved husband?” Barda teased back.
“Certainly.”
“Husband, would you like to accompany Diana and I to the theatre? We could use a big strong man about in case someone tries to mug us.”
“I’m not going if you only want me to stop you from hospitalizing muggers.”
“Scott, think of the poor muggers,” Diana deadpanned.
“Oh, alright. What’s the movie? A nice romantic comedy?”
“Inglorious Bastards.”
“Is it violent?”
“Not as such,” Barda lied for the Amazon.
“And when’s it start?”
“Two hours.”
“I think,” Barda said as she dragged them both onto the floor, “that leaves just enough time for us to wash up afterward.”
And the music kept playing, almost covering up the sound of Barda excusing herself, running to throw Diana’s robes into the washing machine and start a rinse cycle before she ran back, hopping out of her clothes all the way.
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no subject
Date: 2009-09-11 02:45 pm (UTC)I also loved the domestic approach. This was great!
no subject
Date: 2009-09-12 03:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-12 03:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-12 04:23 pm (UTC)Scott and Barda are spot on, too, and absolutely adorable. I know Diana's secret, though - she didn't leave to save the world, she left to avoid Barda making her breakfast!
no subject
Date: 2011-06-25 05:53 am (UTC)